The Phantom of the Radio City Music Hall
by Crystal Shores
Summary: The Phantom of the Opera; a myth never truly explained. No-one thought him real until strange things started happening in NYC. Not to mention the 20,000 missing from the "Phantom of the Opera" managers' account. E/OC-Modern...but not. You'll get it!
1. The Deal

**A/N: ****To address something a reviewer brought up: Erik's half-mask covers the upper half of his face (like the cover of the original book) not his right half (like the ALW version). Thanks for bringing that up! Of course, if you still like to imagine it the other way, that's fine. I'll leave the references to his mask vauge, and you can do whatever! **

**This is my very favorite of my written chapters thus far. Enjoy!!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera!**

**_This chapter is dedicated to...umm...socks?_**

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**Chapter One **

**The Deal **

With five thousand eight hundred and seventy-four seats, the Radio City Music Hall is the largest theatre in the world. And it was here, in two months, that the first annual "Salute to Theatre Festival" was to be held. It was an ideal location; by being the largest theatre in the world, it in and of _itself_ was a salute to theatre. It was decided that December the seventeenth was to be the date, and the early preparations had already begun. It was to last for a week, ending with a spectacular show on Christmas Eve. The performers had already been chosen, as well as the films that were to be shown. A few famous stars and directors were going to give speeches, and, of course, the Radio City Rockettes were scheduled to perform a new routine entitled _The Director _in honor of the Festival.

Excitement was high, and simply no one could wait until the fun began. The same films that they ran at the Festival were also going to be internationally televised, an announcement which, if it were possible, generated even _more_ excitement.

But Liam Frasier, the organizer of the entire event, wanted to do something crazy. Something everyone would remember. So, he decided to hold a contest; a writing contest, to be precise. The children of the United States and of the U.K. were asked to write an essay about filmmaking, theatre, composers, or anything else that had to do with the theatre; and the impact it had on them and their lives. The child who wrote the best essay was invited to come to the Festival free of charge and read their essay to the audience. The rest of the festival was theirs to enjoy.

Hundreds of thousands of essays poured in and an astounded Frasier was forced to hire a team just to sort through them all, let alone read them. After much deliberation, an essay was chosen. It was entitled "My Inspirations" by a Miranda Ellenwood, and told of the stars, directors, and composers who inspired her.

But with the contest officially over, Frasier felt he was still missing something. Then it hit him; _Broadway_. Of course! But he didn't want to film a show, no; he wanted a _live_ Broadway musical performed at his Festival. It would have to be an old favorite, something everyone was familiar with.

He eventually narrowed it down to two: _Cats!_ or _The Phantom of the Opera_. While many other musicals were becoming increasingly popular, they were rather new, and did not have quite as much history, let alone as high a success rate, as these. He decided on the latter, not because it was more popular, but because it was an old favorite of his new girlfriend and he wanted to impress her.

Well, you can imagine the stir it caused. The members of the most recent Phantom on Broadway cast were excited at being invited to perform, but the public was indignant at the fact that they would only be performing one day a week at the regular theatre. The reason they did this was because when they performed at Radio City, it would be a completely different stage than that which they were used to and they would need the extra practice hours. They spent most of their time on Radio City's stage, so as to accustom themselves to the setting and the layout. The cast was very popular. Many fans flocked to the weekly shows, thereby making it very difficult to get a ticket. So little show time would normally have cost the company thousands in unsold tickets, but Frasier took care of that as well. He paid for all of the tickets that would have normally been sold had they been performing. It was expensive, but Florida, his aforementioned girlfriend, said he had perfect taste and after that, it seemed well-worth the expenses.

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The cast was excited, but they were a little anxious as well. Practice was their life just now, and what hectic lives they led! They had just gotten used to the new cast, crew, orchestra, director…and now, with the unfamiliar stage and layout, not to mention an announced change in the casting for the Festival, practically everything else was new, too.

When the previous manager, Alex Sermon, had quit the previous year, the show had come to a grinding halt. Half of the cast quit when their pay stopped, and the entire orchestra, including the conductor, quit as well. The new managers, Andrew Devaroux and Richard Kentworthy, were in a jam. Then, taking a thoroughly _c'est la vie_ outlook on things, they hired a new cast, orchestra (complete with conductor), and replaced anyone else who had quit. Sure, it cost them money, but it would have cost much more had the musical stopped running altogether.

Still, it was considered quite scandalous, and the papers had a complete field day with it. Here is a series of clippings from a small newspaper called _The Days_:

**Richard Firmin and Giles Andre Reincarnated! **

**By: TheaterCritic **

**History is repeating itself! Well, fictional history is, anyway. **

**The new executive managers of the world-renowned musical, _The Phantom of the Opera _are, as it were, just as stupid and oblivious as the two managers_ in_ said musical…. **

**They are changing the musical in a very drastic way. Only a few of the cast who were there before the new managers were appointed remain…. **

…**as well as a critic, who wishes to remain anonymous, and who recently declared that there have been several reports of the new managers paying an as-of-yet-unidentified party the rather absurd sum of twenty thousand dollars a month. When questioned about this, Mr. Kentworthy laughingly replied, "And people have accused _me_ of being too obsessed with the musical! Obviously, they haven't met you!" **

**We are referring, of course, to the part of the musical that states the managers are being coerced by Erik (the infamous Opera Ghost) into paying him twenty thousand francs a month. **

**But—and this makes everything a bit more interesting—Kentworthy also alluded to the fact that he had been a victim of extortion, or something very similar, at least, in the past! So, obviously, he is part of some blackmail scam! It's so very obvious… **

The article went on for some time in this strain, and was met with a raucous skepticism. "TheaterCritic" received many joking e-mails, filled to the brim with crazy—as well as scathing—comments. One man wrote: "My wife had a stroke when she read the paper this morning. She laughed too hard." A woman wrote that she believed every word, and that the reason she did was because she herself was being conned by someone named "Erik": her husband. The joke was so spectacular that no one actually thought for a moment to look for the supposed Ghost…which was _exactly_ what he wanted.

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Meanwhile, the day that the cast had been dreading for nearly a month before had finally arrived: audition day for the special showing for the Festival. The last character to be cast was Christine. The managers were extremely nervous about who to cast, and with good reason. Earlier that day, they had found the following letter in their mail:

_My dear Managers,_

_As you know, your schedule claims today is the day you shall cast the new Christine. Know that I will be present for the auditions, even though you shall not be able to see me. I shall send you a letter detailing who I believe to be the right choice for the part. If you do not follow my instructions, be prepared for many misfortunes, courtesy of yours truly. And, please remember, my salary is due in a week. Failure to procure will also result in many misfortunes._

_I remain, forever yours,_

_The Ghost_

The managers believed him wholly. After all, he had "visited" them before…

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_"Thiiiiiink of meeeeee!"_ the woman finished.

"Ahem, yes. Well," Devaroux grimaced. "We shall…be in touch. Next!"

The auditions were not going well. So far, they had interviewed a woman who couldn't sing above middle C, a woman who had no clue where she was, sixteen overly-emphasizing singers, seven girls that couldn't have been older than thirteen, and someone who _insisted_ she should be Christine, but was, in reality, being considered for Carlotta.

"It's hopeless!" moaned Kentworthy. "They're all horrid!"

"Now, now," comforted Devaroux. "Surely there's someone else…"

Kentworthy whirled around, panic etched into his features. "There isn't anyone else!" he cried. "They've all been and gone! Oh, we're ruined! Finished! We'll be on the front page of the _New York Times_! 'Failures' they'll call us! Oh, Frasier will hate us, and then it's back to the Little Baum in Nowhere-Ville, Kentucky!"

"_Having trouble?_" Both men jumped.

"G-go away!" stuttered Devaroux. "We already paid you this month!"

Somewhere in the walls of the theatre, Erik smiled. "_I didn't come here for money,_" he proclaimed. At the sound of this decidedly evil-sounding statement, Kentworthy gulped. Erik sighed…why was he always stuck with cowards? "_I came to _help_ you,_" he elaborated. "_You two are pathetic when it comes to casting!_"

"Oh!" cried Devaroux, his pride interfering with his terror. "And I suppose _you_ could do better?"

Erik's answer was simple.

"_Yes._" The managers looked at each other. Kentworthy was struck with an idea.

"I'll bet you couldn't find a Christine within a week!" he cried, with the full intention of forcing the Ghost into a bet.

"_Save the theatrics, gentlemen,_" Erik sighed. "_That is my job. Yes, I'll find your Christine within a week. In fact, I already have someone in mind._"

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**A/N: I know; pathetically short. But it was either write a super-long chapter, or cut it in half. Obviously, I chose the latter. **

**So...review! **


	2. The Girl

**A/N: I know! It's been forever. But it's here, so it's fine. And, after all...**

_It's only forever, not long at all..._

**_This chapter is dedicated to A'isha Ishtar: my only reviewer last chapter._**

**Chapter Two**

**The Girl**

Shortly after the previous encounter, Jennifer Martin was cleaning one of the Radio City Music Hall's many bathrooms. She was an usher, but the management paid her to clean on the janitor's days off. Jennifer didn't mind. The bathrooms had wonderful echoes, and she loved singing while she worked. Today was her eighteenth birthday, and her godmother was flying up from California to celebrate. But Jennifer had other things coming her way.

Jennifer Martin was born to Emmaline and Frank Martin while they were on the way to Ireland (the pilot retired soon thereafter). They named Tia Shelley, Emmaline's childhood friend, as godmother.

Sadly, Jennifer's parents died in a car crash a little over a year after Jennifer was born, so Jennifer was raised by Tia, and lived in California until she turned seventeen. Then, in pursuit of a career on Broadway, she moved to New York right after graduating high school. Many people thought that Tia was mentally unsound to send her away so soon, but Tia only smiled and said, "Well, how else could it happen?" But she never gave a hint as to what 'it' was.

Jennifer finished cleaning the mirrors. She was almost ready to go home, but she had one thing left to do: change out the soaps. She was in high spirits, and couldn't wait to see her godmother. As usual, she was signing as she cleaned:

_"You remind me of the babe._

_What babe?_

_The babe with the power._

_What power?_

_The power of Voodoo._

_Who do?_

_You do!_

_Do what?"_

_"Remind me of the babe…" _

Jennifer paused. She had stopped at "Do what?", so who was singing?

"Hello?" she called nervously. "Is someone there?"

_"Just me…"_ The answer came, merely a whisper of a sigh. Jennifer looked around frantically.

"Who are you?" she called, edging towards the door. "And what do you want?" She was almost there.

_"Stop!"_ the command rang throughout the bathroom. _"I have a deal to make with you…"_

Ideas of what sort of things a disembodied voice could ask for ran through Jennifer's head. "N-no thanks," she stuttered, once again trying to get to the door.

_"If you leave now,"_ the voice said conversationally, _"you will always wonder what I was going to offer."_ Jennifer stopped. Of course, this was perfectly true. She was curious by nature, and now she _had_ to hear what the voice was going to say!

"Fine." She sighed, frightened, but also a little impatient. "Just hurry up, okay? I have a lot to do."

Within the walls, Erik smiled.

_"You want to sing on Broadway, yes?"_ Jennifer nodded, then it occurred to her a split second later that the speaker might not be able to see her, so she managed a small:

"Yes."

_"Would playing Christine content you?"_ Jennifer nodded excitedly.

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed. "Christine is my all-time favorite—"

_"I did not ask!" _Erik said, a little more forcefully than he had intended. Jennifer recoiled. Erik continued, making a considerable effort to return his voice to the previous tone:_ "Down the hall, in the main theatre room, the managers are in a dilemma. They cannot find a Christine. I think…_you_ would make an adequate Christine."_ Jennifer's face lit up.

"Do you think so? Well, maybe I should…wait a minute." She glared at no-where in particular. "You aren't real and I can't try out for the main characters without a reference." Erik smiled again.

_"What would you say if I could get you a reference?"_ Jennifer looked happy for a moment, then wilted.

"What would you want in return?" she asked suspiciously, hardly believing that she had really sunk so low as to speak to nonexistant things.

I_ have to be your reference."_ Jennifer exhaled.

"Is that all?" she asked. "Well, what's your name?"

_"Tell them that the Phantom Ghost sent you."_ Jennifer snorted.

"'Phantom Ghost'?" she laughed. "Isn't that redundant?"

_"Do you want this chance or not?!"_ Jennifer smiled and sighed.

"Of course I do," she said. "Then again, I've probably cracked, and you probably aren't real, and I'm going to make a fool of myself." She then shrugged, as if to say 'But who cares?' and left the bathroom.

On her way down the halls, she muttered to herself (a habit that she had picked up from her Godmother): "I'm crazy. I must be crazy. Believing figments of my imagination. Speaking of which; I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the most imaginitive person in the world, but if I have to go crazy: can't I imagine up something better than a 'Phantom Ghost'? Puh-leeze. That's ridiculous."

Erik sighed; she was annoying. Phantom Ghost…it wasn't redundant.

…Was it?

**A/N: Review? Yes? No?**

**BTW, cyber-cookies to anyone who can tell me what the name "Jennifer" means!**

**Also, cyber-cookies to anyone who can tell me what the song she sang is from!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, nor do I own the song that Jennifer sang in this chapter, but I'm not saying who owns it!**


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